


a rash of silence

by farfetched



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Gold & Silver & Crystal | Pokemon Gold Silver Crystal Versions, Pocket Monsters: Red & Green & Blue & Yellow | Pokemon Red Green Blue Yellow Versions
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Character, Depression, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Other, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Recovery, Self-Esteem Issues, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 00:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfetched/pseuds/farfetched
Summary: Green loses. He loses every fight he ever fought, and finds himself at rock-bottom. This is his way back.[Or, what if Green's loss at to Red at the top sent him crashing down? An encounter with Gold starts putting people back in his life.]





	a rash of silence

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so in case you didn't catch it in the tags, involves implied depression and suicidal thoughts/actions. They're not in any detail particularly, but they are dwelled upon and clearly present, so if that's uncomfortable for you, possibly not the best read. But it does get better, I swear. Happy ending here!

He dreams about it sometimes – reaching out for Red's hand, entwining their fingers, kissing him. He feels happy when he does. 

And then he wakes up. 

And the happiness goes crumbling down around him, because he's woken up and Red isn't there beside him, and because he wants that to happen. It sets him on edge, sets his tone to snark, and his mind state into hatefulness, mostly at himself for wanting such stupid things (none of the other boys do, they want girls instead, or he hasn't heard anyone say anything different, except... But he never speaks much at all), yet it spills over, unable to contain it, and he ends up being hateful at Red for inspiring these stupid feelings and thoughts and visions, and at Professor Oak for living in Pallet Town and making him meet Red, and at Daisy for being cheerful, and the sky for being blue. He ends up hating a lot of things, because he doesn't understand anything about what he's going through, realises it's not normal but nothing further than that, never asks any questions because he's scared of any response, doesn't want sympathy but equally doesn't want anger or even just complete apathy to what he feels is a huge thing and so it just builds inside him, bigger and bigger until it just overtakes anything that he might have considered him, everything he was consumed by keeping The Secret, even though he himself doesn't understand and wants more than anything to learn, so he would know. 

But how does he find that in a library? He's read all his grandfather's books, and finds nothing relevant. He's read all of Red's mum's books too, and they're all stupid romances that don't make sense to him, and Delia tells him he shouldn't be reading such things at his age, but never really takes the books away from him (as if she's afraid of inspiring his wrath). Pallet Town doesn't have a library, but he managed to sneak off to Viridian once. He was so overwhelmed by the sheer number of books on everything, every topic under the sun it felt like then, but mostly Pokémon-related. No book fell off the shelf at him, or shone, or some ridiculous fantasy stuff like that, so he simply didn't know where to start, and sloped off home again, barely speaking for a week. 

Even despite his hate, Red is there, smiles slightly, nicely (he'd even call it cute, before biting his tongue in annoyance) on the good days where he doesn't dream, doesn't think much, and just does. On the bad days, he wears this small frown, belying a sadness that burdens itself on Green too, because why can't he just be nice? Can't he just pretend he doesn't keep dreaming of Red in odd situations with him? But he's too young to cover it up well, and the words keep falling out his mouth and the frown sets in further, deeper lines into Red's face, and it kind of makes him want to drown. 

In the early days, before he started feeling weird, they'd promised to travel together. But he sees it as escape. Red walks too slowly. Red will make him do all the talking, anyway. Red will be better than him because he doesn't get distracted, not in battles, because battles for Red are like research for Green, it's something he likes doing and devotes time too (but he still hasn't found anything in Viridian library, after all these years - he doesn't think a book exists for him) and besides, Red got an A+ in battling while he got an A-, a note that speed and power will only take him so far, he needs tactics and strategy, but even when he tries it he's not as good as Red. 

So when he gets that eevee, he battles Red, loses, and leaves, feet itching to get further away, to leave Pallet Town behind and find all the other places in Kanto he's read about and never been. He wants to fight the gyms (he needs a quest, anything to stop himself thinking about the painful ball of fire in his chest) wants to see the sunsets on Cinnabar, eat the delicacies of Saffron City. But ultimately, he just doesn't really want to be in a place where they all know the Green he has always been, a hateful soul with a secret so heavy he can't barely breathe, so he rushes onwards and feels the wind on his face and hears the birds in the trees and doesn't care whether they could attack right now, because he's free. No curfew, no going back. It's so frightening but so, so not: he feels like laying in the grass and watching the clouds go by all day, but Red could catch up any second. So he forces himself onwards, until the buildings of Pallet Town become fully obscured by the trees and there is nothing but nature around him.

* * *

It doesn't end when it ends. Somehow. Red's at the other end of the field, petting his just barely moving pikachu, and he's just staring at the stationary lump of eevee in the middle of the field. He can't move. The roaring isn't just in his ears, the crowd are so, so loud, surging forward to crown Red as their new Champion. 

He did not expect to be beaten so soundly, so quickly. He looks at his watch, and numbly counts the hours. Two hours, forty-two minutes. It's a joke, is what it is. Somewhere, some deity is laughing at him, laughing at all the work he put in (probably blaming him, he knew Red was following him, and he knew Red was better. Makes sense. Painful sense.) and how quickly it fell apart. He hadn't even barely won before Red had started his challenge. He'd never, ever won to Red, except that one time in fourth grade where Red was pretty ill but had stubbornly decided to come into school anyway. He won then, but even despite the illness, he only won by a bit, and Red fainted shortly after. Red was just... talented. And he wasn't. He remembers the shock more than the joy of winning, eclipsed somewhat by his worry for Red, the thought that even that was a fluke leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. 

He sees Red looking at him through the crowd. He tries not to sneer, but it's difficult. The only person he needed to win against. He was one person away, but not – he was there, and Red swiftly reminded him that it was never his to start with. That Red is just better than him, in every possible way. And he wonders suddenly why he ever loved Red. 

Then he stops. Green stops and thinks about that, that word, and cold, numbing shock freezes his body, as pieces knit together, from the over-the-top feelings in those stupid romances, idle offhand comments in papers noting of occasional same-sex couples in pokemon, and it finally hits him as though drowned, as though tackled by a rhyhorn. 

_He's in love with Red._

The shock of it doesn't let up for ages. Not for his grandfather's expected disappointment. He'll think about it later, wonder why Professor Oak ever let him in the house. Not for Red's confused and pitying looks. He'll be angry later. Not for the surprised looks of the elites as he walks past, and Professor Oak takes Red into the Hall of Fame because he's not good enough, never learnt the procedure, not there long enough to learn. It's like someone pulls a rug from out under him, except there was no floor anyway, and he's falling, falling, his mind blank apart from that, because he so, so doesn't want it to be true, except it is, it must be, it has to be, and all he can think is to get away. Flee to where people won't find him, no one will bother him, and he can shut down. 

He finds himself in Cinnabar, looking out over the ocean, and wonders if anyone would stop him if he tried to swim out to sea, knowing the nearest land is far, far out of reach for someone like him. 

He's not thinking when he puts his pokemon in the PC, his stuff in a holding box at the pokemon centre. He isn't thinking at all, only feeling, feeling like he's been racing around at high speed but ultimately back to square one, lower than square one, because that indicates he ever made it onto the board. 

He's terrified of his lack of thought. But he can't stay still, can't stay here and before he knows it, he's going, swimming and the feel of water over his skin, despite all his clothes, his trainers making it difficult to kick his legs properly, the laces tangling, and his shirt becoming sodden so fast and everything just pulls him downwards, but he just keeps going. He doesn't look back to see the shore disappearing behind him, doesn't think about what he's doing, what will happen when he runs out of energy until he gets there. Every motion like dragging lead up a hill, until eventually, he can't, uses the last of his energy to flip over and lie on his back, arms spread and slowly, slowly sinking. He's cold, his toes numbing to all sensation – it's April, the sea hasn't warmed up yet from the harsh winter, and it's funny because spring is supposed to be about new beginnings, and he wonders if this idiocy will kill him. He's so tired the thought doesn't barely register, just an idle thing, as if he can't feel himself sinking down, muscles unable to counter the pull of the sea. 

Then he feels currents around him, finds himself on a tiny island – not an island, a pokemon, a lapras, cooing at him softly, worriedly, and until then, he never really thought pokemon had emotions. It had always been a nebulous thing, but the way the water pokemon noses at him, trills contentedly when he shifts, groaning, pushes his foot out of the water with a flipper, and sets off back towards land. It makes him think that maybe that's what he's done wrong. Red won because he treated his pokemon as friends, as an extension of himself, so they would never hesitate to carry out a command. The more tired his own pokemon got the less they followed his orders, because they thought he didn't care much. 

And he didn't. 

So as he lays there, whispering things to reassure the lapras that he's still alive, despite how cold he feels, he decides. If he makes it, if hypothermia doesn't pull him under, and he makes it back to shore, he's going to work harder with his pokemon. And he decides that he will never, ever confess his new-found knowledge of his feelings to Red. Because for a start, he's going unconscious.

* * *

He wakes up to feeling on the colder side, and the unpleasant view of his grandfather's face. It is not a pleased expression that either party makes. 

Professor Oak starts his rant about irresponsibility, and loses Green from there on. It shows, doesn't it? The professor doesn't care about him. This perceived slight is apparently directed towards him, and his reputation will fall. 

Green has always thought that Professor Oak, as a father figure, was a bit shit, really. And by a bit, he means a whole lot. He looks away from the ranting man to the window, sunlight filtering in through thin curtains, and thinks about how, growing up, it was always about trying to intimidate him into not being grumpy and irritating, rather than asking why, what the cause of it was. Professor Oak was so caught up in researching pokemon that he neglected the two humans living in his house. 

Green turns to him, and asks him to leave. It gives him blessed silence for a minute or so. No movement. Then he starts up again, questioning how Green could be so petulant, so childish, so he rings the bell for a nurse, asks her to remove Professor Oak since he needs rest. It takes a few doctors and nurses, but they eventually remove the elderly man from the ward, and he asks them not to let him in again.

* * *

Red never visits. He's thankful, really. He hasn't sorted anything out.

* * *

Once he gets out of hospital, he goes and collects his stuff, then buys some nice pokemon food, and finds a lapras fairly close to the beach, swimming up and down the length of the sands, and he whistles at her. She seems to recognise him, and swims closer, as close as she can get to the shore, so he takes his trainers and socks off, rolls up his trousers and wades out to her, thanks her profusely, and feeds her as an extra thanks. He doesn't catch her. He doesn't try. She seems to appreciate the notion, and after a while, a much smaller lapras pops up and nuzzles against her, and he's suddenly so glad he didn't try, and wonders if any of his pokemon had been brought away from situations like this. He hopes not. He feeds the little one, and pets them both for a while before stepping back. They chirp at him happily, before setting off down the shore, and he watches until they are well out of sight, before trudging back inland. 

He has some explaining, and potentially some releasing to do.

* * *

A lot choose to leave. He starts with the ones he threw callously into the PC, grouped by approximate area in which he caught them, and once he's back in those areas, he asks them whether they want to stay. He makes what feels like hundreds of trips, ferrying back and forth and eventually retracing his entire journey across Kanto, until he ends up with his last six, the ones he took right through to the championship (and his demise), and stands in a quiet corner of Viridian City, crouches down before the six of them, and makes his case. 

He can only stand back and let them make their choice, without his (poisonous) influence. Without his interference, and he attempts to keep his expression neutral, not the utter fear he senses simmering just under the surface. What if they all leave? He'll be... alone. Completely. The only being who would be vaguely invested in his well being would be Daisy, and even then... 

He nearly cries when Eevee pads softly over, scoops her up and hugs her tight, at least until she squirms. 

The others look at each other, and stay exactly where they are. Green morosely travels around Kanto one last time, dropping each of them off wherever he caught them, feeding and thanking them as he does. But they still disappear into the landscape, and he is left with only a few young, weak Pokemon – lower levelled, any Pokemon can be strong if trained right, hasn't Red shown him that? 

He sits in the beach in Cinnabar for a very long time, letting Eevee play in the sand with a few wild Pokemon, less hostile than most. He half expects her to change her mind, to run off with the others or to make him release her. 

Yet, after a few hours, she returns to his side, curls up and lets him stroke her softly. 

That time, he really does cry.

* * *

A few years later, he's still surviving. Every few months, things get on top of him and he swims out into the Kantonian Sea without true intentions of returning, gets picked up by the friendly Lapras (he tentatively calls her Rose, in his mind: her child is Rocky for no real reason) and taken back to shore. Depending on the season, it requires a hospital visit, but mostly not. He can cope with it now, knows what to do: Eevee knows what to do with him, and when to get help. 

He gets wind of some new kid sweeping the neighbouring nation _like Red so talented like Red he'll save us all like Red_ but it only reminds him of times long gone. He'll never battle Red again, the few Pokemon he had left gifted to others, knowing that he just wasn't talented, or driven enough to make a meaningful bond with them. Red's the one who's good with Pokemon, not him. Little point trying since when he did, he failed miserably. 

He gets a small cottage in Cinnabar to save on expenses, the money he built up in training still keeping him going, but it's running out. He spends his days researching, almost anything but Pokemon, some days rarely leaving the lab, and others, entirely unable to face it. 

He doesn't even try to pretend he's stable. 

It takes a fairly long time for the kid who was getting famous (Gold, the newspaper said) to get to Kanto, to start challenging the other gyms, to sweep this nation too. Green guesses that he took a break after beating Lance, and smiles grimly. Lance had always hated him. Even though they had interacted for a sum total of a few hours, it didn't matter. The dragon training elite must have been joyous to see the back of him, and so fast, too. 

He's just reading a thick textbook, trying to spot where his theory is wrong, when there is a knock on the door, halting. Sighing, he answers, only to find Gold enquiring after him. On a whim, he indulges the new Champion (though doesn't tell him about the fan in the bushes he spies ducking out of sight a little too late), invites him in, gives him tea. 

Then is stunned to silence by Gold declaring that Red wanted to see him. 

Immediately, there is a tirade of questions, a _why how when where really, me?_ before he shuts himself up, takes a breath and tries to connect the information. Maybe Red wants a battle with him. Maybe Red doesn't know, hasn't accepted how pathetic he is, how the singular Eevee, stubborn enough not to want to evolve yet, is his only Pokemon now, and helps carrying test tubes more often than battles. 

Gold, however, insists. Says he'll take Green up the mountain. (Why a mountain, anyway? Is it true that Red wants to see him, rather than Gold deciding Red's words?)

(Is it true that his stupid feelings from so long ago are dead and gone now?)

Still, against Gold's perseverance, he stops protesting. 

He wants time, though, to prepare.

* * *

He'd been feeding the birds at his cottage, overlooking the sea. Normal birds, but he got a few Pokemon as well – the odd pidgey, a grumpy spearow that would cheep at him shrilly if the bird ever spotted him. There was also a wingull, far away from home – Green guessed it must have been irresponsibly released here, by a visiting Hoennese trainer. It was quite friendly, and often hopped up to greet him if he went out, jumping on his shoulder occasionally. 

He got his idea the morning after Gold had spoken to him, as he spread seed out and sat there, wondering just when he'd become quite such a recluse. But he saw that wingull, fluttering over to sit on the arm of the garden chair, pecking food out of his hand, and he thought about it. It would be useful to have a Pokemon who could use fly, if he were to go to Mt Silver. Just in case anything happened, or he wanted to escape without waiting for Gold. 

He stretched his arm out, hesitantly patted the Wingull. It chirped happily, shuffling next to him, curling up and dozing off. 

He would befriend it. He would see if it would allow him to catch it.

* * *

A week later, and the wingull had agreed. Green had gone out especially to buy a pokeball for it, and, once captured, he decided to call it Swoop. He briefly pondered using a nickname for Eevee, but it had been too long. 

Speaking of, he'd gotten a shock two mornings ago, when Eevee had been somewhat grumpy the night before, pawing at the door just before he was about to go to sleep, so without even thinking about it, he'd let her out and gone to bed.  
Only to be presented, the next morning, with a friendly and familiar looking umbreon. He'd grinned, hugged her, and given her an extra treat for her breakfast that morning. It made him feel extremely happy that he'd managed to earn her trust enough that she'd evolved by friendship. 

So, he now had an umbreon that would, likely, forever be called Eevee, and Swoop, for whom he had dug up his old hidden machine for fly, and had begun to teach it to the bird, alongside training him up. Swoop would never get to the level needed for Mt Silver in this time – going on type, he wasn't the right Pokémon to take in any case – but it would be better than nothing. The wingull could at least fly him a short distance, and he may be able to fly further given the steep slopes. The bird was at a higher level than a wild bird would be, and even decided to evolve after about two weeks. Green sensed he'd wanted to for some time, had even expected to whilst being trained by his previous owner, so the change was welcome to it. 

Then Gold came back, grinned at him widely, and the dread began to grow within Green.

* * *

He liked to think he kept himself fairly fit, what with his regular swimming escapades (more frequent, but Rose no longer needed to save him - he'd become quite good friends with her. Rocky was getting near full size, and would likely leave for new waters soon) and daily walks on the beach, but the walk (wrong word - hike was getting there) was exhausting. Even Gold, who apparently trekked up fairly often, found it difficult, although thankfully this left little room for talking. 

Unfortunately, this left plenty of room for his own thoughts, when he wasn't focusing on placing one foot in front of the other and making sure he didn't slip. Mostly, he wanted to know _why_ Red wanted to see him. If he did. Gold could be just lying to him. It wouldn't be a ridiculous thing for him to do: Green got the idea in the small amount of time he'd spent with the younger Champion that he was partial to a prank. 

But why go to all the effort? Only Daisy knew where he lived now, so it would have involved going to Pallet Town, and actually trying to find him. It was just... weird. 

As they got higher up the mountain, Green felt he was probably justified in thinking Red was insane. But it was his choice – not like Green had ever made better ones (jumping into the sea being in the midst of many, many stupid ideas) so who was he to judge. 

And then they reached the top. It was damn cold, the only difference being the wind could attack them from any angle. But they were only on the very top briefly, Gold ducking over the summit and into a hidden entrance Green would never have noticed, and waved him in. A few minutes later, and there Red was, looking much the same as he did the last time Red saw him, several years ago, jacket a bit more threadbare, a bit thinner than he already had been, and still just as pale. But there is a relaxed aura about him, despite the glint of amusement in his eyes. 

Green, to give himself time to gather his thoughts, flops down on the cold floor, leaning against the 'wall', and pulls his legs up towards his chest. 

Red shifts while he speaks with Gold, disguises the action poorly of poking the fire, putting another log on it, then sits next to Green. Their arms are almost brushing, and Green's heart sinks even as it beats faster. There is nothing coincidental about it, but what it actually means is a different matter. 

He's trying to calm himself, persuade himself that it's merely platonic, missing him (but why? He was so mean to Red, such an idiot, and never got in contact or even tried, he had to be dragged up here...) or just... He doesn't know. He can't think of many reasons, and instead just tries to focus on the other two's conversation, slow but not stilted, commenting in the state of Gold's rival (sounds like he has a stick up his ass) and the Pokemon mainly (good, Charizard has a cold and Pikachu is playing hide and seek with Blastoise, and winning spectacularly, one of Gold's oddly interested in his rival's – Green has to dredge up links between nicknames and Pokemon like crazy, gets lost between the conversation and his growing confusion). Gold starts putting away the supplies he'd brought up, and Green recalls that he has some of his own, takes a sip of water and nibbles on an oat bar he's somewhat taken to. 

Red just watches him, smiling just slightly. 

No, judging by the heat in his chest under the intense scrutiny, those feelings haven't really changed or dimmed any. 

When Gold saunters over to a further bit of the cave, he quietly asks why Red wanted to see him. 

' _I just wanted to see you_.' 

Green isn't sure if he's happy or scared of the answer.

* * *

They don't stay up there for that long, only a few hours. Long enough for him to determine that Red is chronically insane, but happy up there, on top of the world, and that the stupid fluttering in his chest hasn't stopped, either. 

He has this awful feeling that he's going to have a monochromatic dream tonight. 

Gold shoots him looks all the way down, but only speaks once they reach a level at which there are smudges of vegetation across the immediate landscape. 

Even then, Green doesn't reply to it. What does he say to the implication that Red was more friendly with him, who he hasn't seen in several years, than Gold who visits every two weeks or so? He's kind of dazed himself. So when Gold suggests going up again next time, he mindlessly agrees, and once he realises his mistake, it's too late.

* * *

He gets into a bit of a pattern. Spending two weeks in the lab, Swoop and Eevee pottering around, trying to get fully used to their new shapes, but generally happy, swimming a few times within that span. Then climbing the mountain with Gold, spending two hours in close proximity to Red, ignoring a suggestive comment by Gold on the way down, and never quite building the courage or really wanting to refuse the next visit. 

The two Champions meet his two Pokemon. Eevee and Swoop are somewhat less keen on being in the chilled atmosphere of the cave, but happy to meet new Pokemon. Red seems half bemused and half confused, but Green isn't overly willing to divulge the story, so he says nothing. 

The routine doesn't really change much for several months, at least until Gold has a surprise match at the last moment, and can't go, and somehow Green doesn't like the thought of disappointing Red by not getting there at what has become the time and day, despite it not being a formal arrangement. So he climbs on his own, fit enough to carry some supplies, wracking his brains for things Red liked when he was younger, cramming the remaining space in the rucksack full of childish treats alongside a few more functional ones. 

Red barely even seems to register Gold's absence aside from the fact he isn't in sight, wraps his arms around Green tightly, buries his face into Green's shoulder. 

Perhaps, Green thinks, there is more to the mountain business than it seems. 

Even when they sit in the cave, Red clings to him, and if Green didn't know better, he'd say Red's hands were shaking. His scarlet eyes light up upon receiving the treats he packed, true smile spreading on his face, so genuine it makes Green himself smile. 

They share a somewhat companionable silence, so different from years ago (where the silence was merely no man's land, attacks prepared and ready on either side – but maybe more on his, trying not to slip into familiarity and leave the door open for something else which he never wanted to want) for a long time, Red slowly munching on a liquorice stick, pausing occasionally to smile warmly at him. 

(No, those feelings are so far from dead and gone. They're not even undead, just risen from a coma and re-integrating like they were never gone, and it's exactly the same situation he finds himself in) 

He doesn't actually know why, or even how, the words slip from his mouth. He just stops thinking and hears himself talking. 

_I think I might be gay_. 

He wishes Mt Silver would take pity and engulf him. Do what probably should have been done years ago, before he had the chance to fuck everything up. 

Red stares at him for a long time. A _long_ time, just watching him as Green looks uncomfortably off into the blackness of the cave, shifting frequently as he tries not to run away. 

Eventually though, he turns to tell Red to stop staring at him, and then stops- he just looks so hopeful, before Red seems to realise this, and busies himself with eating again, and is he...?

Red, master of Pokemon and experienced stoic (except around Green, apparently) is _blushing_. 

_What the hell._

He wants to ask, but the words dry up, so he distracts himself with digging around in his bag, grabbing an oat and rawstberry bar, and nibbles on it, desperately trying not to think. About how close Red is, about how these dredged up feelings may well have fucked everything up (and yet, so completely and utterly not, and he hates himself for hoping) about how easy it would be to just lean over and- 

He is grateful for Gold running in, swaying his decision. 

He is not grateful for the look on Gold's face, a look he's seen in the mirror so many times, despair and pain and hurt, the inevitable dawning of understanding that hopes are so easily dashed. 

Gold just stands there, stares for ages, until Green isn't actually sure what he's looking at, what he's looking for even, and his face goes red and scrunches up in pain, hisses _how could you_ and stalks out. 

Green feels like he should have been the recipient to that tone, that question – but he's sure Gold was looking at Red. 

There is so much he doesn't know about this whole situation. 

He's not really sure if he wants to know.

* * *

He's editing a paper on the effect of Pokemon migration on storm systems, appropriately as heavy rainfall batters Cinnabar, when he just about hears the door being knocked. He huffs with irritation – he's _comfortable_ , Swoop and Eevee curled up together on his legs while he types away on his laptop, soothing music going – and ponders about ignoring it, but ultimately takes pity on whichever poor soul is waiting out there in the storm, shifts the Pokemon (they continue dozing on the sofa after a short grumble) and answer it. 

He does not expect Gold, less so a bedraggled, morose-looking Gold. 

Green isn't quite so mean as to leave him out there, so lets him in and lends him a towel, some clothes and the shower. When he returns, less bedraggled but still morose, Green shoves a cup of tea his way, gestures to the biscuits on the table (his default gesture to anyone, including himself, who is upset – tea and biscuits) and just waits. He trusts that Gold will talk when he's ready, will know that he is listening. 

Eventually he does – and it's not nearly what Green expects. How Gold spent all this time idolising Red, putting him on this huge pedestal and nearly worshipping him, trying so hard just to get the right to battle him, not caring if he would lose – just the privilege would be enough. But Red went missing as he was getting closer to starting the league. He'd thought it was conjecture at first, rumours – but days stretched to weeks, search parties came back empty-handed, and Gold's determination to find him, or at the very least what had happened to him, had only grown. So he'd gotten a Pokemon – Typhlosion, only a tiny cyndaquil then, flames shooting everywhere whenever it sneezed – travelled Johto, battled the gyms: still no sign of Red, not even a whisper. The police had given up, and to maintain normalcy, they instated Lance as League Champion, reshuffled the ranks. But Gold hadn't – he continued on into Red's homeland, battling the gym leaders there, except for Viridian, still empty nearly four years after those incidents – found Pallet Town, a place steeped in grief – they'd lost two of their best trainers, and no one knew where either of them were, if they were even alive. 

Gold looks at Green oddly, until it finally clicks who the other 'best' trainer was. Daisy had, evidently, kept her promise. Green can't do much else than shrug uncomfortably, motion Gold to continue, despite the growing curiosity he can tell is there. 

So Gold finally got a hint of an idea – Red might be up Mt Silver, based on some cryptic comments he'd heard, and it had turned out he was right. They'd battled, Gold had lost, but decided to stay up there for a while, let his Pokemon recover somewhat before making the arduous trek back down. Once he'd gotten over his admittedly embarrassing fanboy attitude, he had found a certain kinship with Red. They weren't even close to being the same, but they had similarities, and it was nice to speak to someone who understood. 

Gold goes quiet, twisting his now empty mug in his hands, eyes flickering around, anywhere but Green, in abashment. 

He starts again haltingly, and Green finds himself growing numb. _I may have slightly just a bit fallen in love with him, and I don't know what I was thinking, but I decided I would- would kiss him. And he kissed me back. We, er, may have slept together. Once or twice. Or a few times._

Green can tell it's not the end of the tale, doesn't explain even half of it or why the reigning Champion (technically) had come here in such a state, but his mind buzzes into painful overdrive, thinking and rethinking, re-evaluating the information and the shock. It's not like he ever expressed that he liked Red. It's not even really like he ever really wanted to sleep with Red, just next to him and wake up curled together. 

It's the beginning of another revelation. 

Still, after a few moments, Gold continues, looking a little suspicious of his reaction. It'd been a few months since they'd started to be romantically involved that the subject of Green came up. Red hadn't seen him, or heard anything much other than a garbled message from Professor Oak until Gold had mentioned that no one knew where Green even was. 

Red, oddly, had gotten angry. Gold had never seen him so annoyed, storming around the cave, muttering to himself. He'd asked Gold to find him, and after several weeks of false leads and vague maybe-sightings from other people, he'd found out Green was in Cinnabar. Green knew the rest, really. Apart from why Gold was here, now. 

Apparently Gold had heard him coming out to Red. It had shocked him, since although Red appeared to have been making moves, getting close, Green himself had not really reciprocated. Sure, Gold was miffed, but he could understand the pushing him aside – until he saw the look on Red's face, telling him everything he'd needed to know. 

He'd been in pain, so he'd gone home. For comfort, he'd thought, until his mother reacted badly to his saying he was probably bisexual, and he fled, fearing further responses. After wandering aimlessly for a week, he'd decided to come to pretty much the only person who could even vaguely understand. 

Green resembled a fish, the only thought process he could manage to vocalise was offering his spare bedroom. 

To say Gold looked relieved was an understatement.

* * *

He spends a fair amount of time that night going over everything he'd heard and thought, but it still didn't really make sense. He puts it to one side of his mind, and decides to just live. As always. One day at a time, only has to factor Gold into the equation. More food, less alone time. He could probably deal with that. Knowing Gold, it was either only temporary, or he'd use it as a base to travel from, and meet challengers and such. They probably wouldn't see that much of each other. 

Oh, how wonderfully wrong he was. 

He'd forgotten how it was nice to co-exist with someone, to just be companionable. The two of them had gotten pretty close too, and life had settled down into a pleasant baseline, the apartment filled up with Pokémon and it was just nice to know he had grown out of pushing people away. Everything felt lighter now he didn't have as much to hide. (He would not tell Gold of how his swimming trips into the sea began – it was too close, too raw, and he didn't want to start anything else) 

Two things happened, not separated by much. 

Gold started being more... affectionate. Not overly so, but lingering touches, more hugs, kisses to his cheeks and forehead and such. Which greatly confused Green, even as he liked it and to an extent reciprocated, because Gold still spoke about Red with this hopeful glint in his eye, a wishful tone. He didn't feel affronted by it – it was fair enough, and he was beginning to realise that he'd never be able to give Gold everything he wanted, so it was reasonable to fantasise. It was just, odd, and there was something that Green didn't get, in between him going up to see Red occasionally, awkwardness set in on his side, even as Red began to do very similar thing as Gold – intertwining his fingers with Green's, hugging him longer than the typical friendly three seconds. 

It didn't quite add up. 

The second thing, that made Gold speechless in shock, and Green turn on his heel to make tea (he'd realised it was his stress response – there was something therapeutic about making it, drinking it, washing up, and it allowed him at least a few moments to gather his thoughts.) was the sudden and unexpected arrival of Red on his doorstep. Professor Oak was behind him, and Daisy behind _him_. 

Red was fine. Daisy was fine. Nice, even, welcoming to see her after so long, and he does feel guilty about that – but... It was the Professor and the stormy look on his face that set him into panic mode. He was going to tell them what he'd done. Green had never quite been sure whether Professor Oak had read his medical notes on that occasion – though he'd read them himself, and despite suspicion as to possible reasons _why_ he was in the sea being rescued by a Lapras in April being only that (suspicion) he was certain that his grandfather had probably read between the lines. 

Daisy swiftly joins him in the kitchen, just there, leaning against the counter as he tries to breathe and get things ready with his shaking hands. Professor Oak seems to be occupied by talking to Gold amicably, alternating between seeming in awe of Red and angry at him. 

Then Daisy quietly asks him what actually happened, four years ago after he won and lost the championship. 

He goes blank for a while, pauses in the moment just before pouring hot water, everything flashing through his mind, and he tries to calm down and answer _I just got ill_ but it's so shaky he knows she didn't believe him. It's gone now, it's in the past, he only goes swimming with intent to return, and he's not taking stupid risks (he refuses to let people know that some days he wakes up and doesn't want to, that some days death is on the forefront of his mind), but she's done so much for him, she deserves the truth from him. So he turns, and starts again _I just..._

And stops, when he realises the others have stopped bickering, listening in, curious and expectant faces, and he can't tell her here. Her alone, he would be prepared, but Gold and Red never knew about his hospital visit, and he won't give Professor Oak the satisfaction. 

He murmurs that he'll tell her later, attempts to continue his task with a wry smile, but is halted again by a hand on his arm, fearful and disappointed. She speaks softly, only wanting to know why Green had gone so weird, why he'd changed so much, why he'd isolated himself and refused to let anyone contact him, or help. And she believes it's all connected to that one incident, four years ago. 

Things escalate in the crushing silence around them, Green being unable to tell her that he doesn't want to explain to the other three while they are there, listening, none of them have the good grace to fuck off for a few minutes, curiosity winning over decency, and Daisy doesn't see his dilemma, refuses to let it go or wait any longer, and he ends up yelling that he's leaving. 

Professor Oak has the tenacity to ask him if he's going to drown himself. 

He whirls around, venom in his eyes, pain in his heart and spits out a simple _yes_ and runs off. 

He probably should have thought they'd follow him, unsure if he was being sarcastic and unwilling to take the risk. But he casts it no mind, finds Rose milling out from the beach and begs her to take him somewhere. She obliges, and the shouting fades into the waves crashing against the Lapras' body, the gentle oscillating calming him immensely, breathing deeply to slow his racing heart. 

She doesn't go too far out from the island, far enough that he can just see shapes on the shore, but can't hear them, and she circles around from there. He lays himself out on her back, facing the sky and watches the clouds pass overhead, watching the sky begin to darken. Swoop joins him after a while, settling next to him and crooning softly as the bird goes to sleep. 

It's a long while before he even thinks of returning home, sure that they would be there. The questions will drown him there, engulf him under the weight of accusations, why is it so important for them to know? He never did it to spite them, but they'd think it selfish if he said that he wasn't thinking of them when he did it, wasn't thinking at all. He wouldn't be able to convey the sheer black abyss his mind had gone to on that occasion, on several others, the need to be woken up and that only being achieved by the sea. He's tried other things, but it's easier to say he went swimming and overestimated his ability. No one questions it. No one narrows their eyes like they do a mysteriously gotten wound, or a bruise he can't quite explain. 

He's better now, anyway. He's better at dealing with himself, doesn't lash out, the bleakest days getting further and further apart. Maybe he's not perfect, but he's come to realise he won't ever be, the best he can be is Green. Perhaps in another life he's better, done better. Perhaps he won over Red, ruled for a while, maybe he took the Viridian Gym post, or maybe his parents didn't leave him and then die, and he never met Red. 

But that hasn't happened, and he can't change that. He can only say sorry for the things he's done, and he has, or will do to most people. Some wrongs can't be forgiven, but he's doing his best, and he thinks he's getting there. 

Defences shored up again, and feeling better (for someone called Green, he sure prefers the sea over land), he sits up, spends a minute watching the minimal lights of Cinnabar wavering on the surface of the sea, the gloomy night lit by the bright moon, just waxing, before he asks Rose to go back to shore. Once there, he hops off – Swoop takes off to circle high overhead - and Green promises her treats the next morning, begrudgingly sets off towards his small cottage. 

Thankfully, the door is unlocked – he'd forgotten to bring anything earlier – and he finds his poke gear flashing with unread messages and mails on the table; he shuts it down, decides to read them tomorrow. He fixes himself a glass of water, turns, and barely managed not to jump upon finding Red's gaze firmly set on him, sat on the sofa. 

It'd be a lot more threatening if Gold wasn't lying next to him, asleep, head in Red's lap and snoring slightly. 

_You never told me._

The murmured accusation hits him, and he winces just slightly. He could make his excuses here, he could say that Red wasn't around, that he never told anyone, that it wasn't what it looked like. But in the quiet of night, it seems too much like cowardice, and so he can only mutter a 'no', dropping his gaze to the floor and gulping down his drink. He doesn't want to have to explain. He doesn't want to know what Red thinks of him now, weak and stupid. 

He guesses Professor Oak told them his version, with all the anger and betrayal and none of the reasoning. If he wants any of them not to hate him, he needs to tell them his version, needs to clear the waters like he's been so reluctant to; he's found out some of their problems, it's a trust thing, if he shuts down now, it'll be like saying he doesn't trust them enough. 

He takes a deep breath, finishes off his water, and sits in the chair adjacent to the sofa, and motions that Red wake Gold up. He doesn't want to repeat himself more than he has to. 

He doesn't look at them, a piercing gaze from Red, a groggy yet interested Gold, not betrayed because Gold wasn't even there then. He takes a breath, wishes he had something to occupy his hands, and starts to speak, no planning else he'd back out, and he doesn't want to lose this. It's time he trusted them. 

So he tells them. He tells them of failing, of the over-riding numbness, the need to leave. The way it was at least a few days after that first time that he even felt a glimmer of thankfulness that he was still alive, not a corpse in a watery grave. He tells them of fear, of the hatred towards everything, of trying to run without running, to equalise and become normal again, trying to be happy by merely being, and how he was getting there. How he'd thought by distancing himself from Pallet, from Red, he could minimise any further damage. 

Of course it didn't really work, Gold finding him all too easily and making him see Red. He assures them he's thankful, the only time he looks at them in the whole conversation, and their gazes soften just slightly, marred with worry and anger and annoyance. His glances skitters away back to the floor, recounting things as they come to him, out of order, in the void of night the truths somehow seem less true and easier to say, as though if in a dream, and he'll find himself waking tomorrow and they'll be unaware of all of this. He says how he released almost all of his Pokemon, Eevee the only one content to stay with him. 

He's exhausted when he finishes, tired from suppressing any emotion, doesn't want them to see him cry, hell knows how weak they already think he is. He doesn't want them to leave. 

It's the only thing he hasn't told them, the desire to co-exist with the two of them, a little trio in a little house. It's not fair to push that on them, he's ruined his chances with Red and Gold never really loved him anyway. It's also too new a revelation, sparked with the pure domesticity of finding them there as he returned, even if it's not the greatest reason why they remained. 

Green stands, starts sidling off to his bedroom, to sleep and put all of this behind him. He'll wake, tomorrow, to an empty house, Gold and Red reconciled and off somewhere, Daisy so angry at him that she won't forgive him, and Professor Oak hating him from half a region away. He stops at a hesitant pull on his sleeve, and hears movement as he turns and finds Gold hugging him, murmuring that he's thankful Green told them, and he's not alone, they're here for him. 

Blinking several times in shock, his confusion only builds when Red gives him a warm smile, not quite so much into hugging but he pats Green's shoulder, silent support. 

He'd liked to say his eyes didn't well up with tears as he returned Gold's hug, so much more than it seems. He'd like to say he wasn't quite as hopeful as he was when Red commented that they'd need to talk about living arrangements in the morning, but had this glint in his eye that just seemed amused and hopeful all at the same time. 

He goes to sleep feeling lighter than usual, buoyed by hope and trust.

* * *

Red joins the motley crew of Green's the next day for real, his back yard suddenly full of boisterous pokemon and he's got a whole load more to work out the quirks of, but he can't even pretend to care. The day dawned bright and sunny, crisp and cold, winter turning to spring, and it appropriately feels like a new beginning. 

He trots down the beach later on, fusses Rose and feeds her, wonders if he is pretty much the only reason she sticks around, and thanks her for everything she has done for him. The other two follow him a while later, Gold ends up drenched due to a dare and Red and Green get covered when he flings an arm over both their shoulders, but they laugh anyway, despite the half-hearted complaining. 

The pure happiness he feels at it, over the weeks, slowly burns out the darkness, and gets to a point that whenever his research isn't going so well, or his day just feels a little empty, one or both of them do something to cheer him up, and he reciprocates that in his own way. 

But he's still confused. 

Red and Gold have clearly reconciled back to their romantic relationship – he's happened upon them kissing several times, and he can't help the stab of desire for something at least a little like that. They don't hide it per say, but they don't make it very overt, which he is thankful for – it'd be somewhat painful otherwise. They sleep in the same bed at night, and he'll often find them curled up on the sofa together. 

But they are still overly affectionate with him. Even when one is in the same room, they'll kiss him on the forehead or in his hair, or something else, and the confusion only builds. He doubts what's happening is what he's come up with as the only possible reason – it can't, surely, there must be something else. Something he hasn't considered. 

_Why would they want him in their relationship? Why would they want a- a poly-amorous relationship with him, anyway?_

He tries to dismiss it, but it keeps returning to his mind, and the waters get further muddied by the fact that Red hugs him from behind as he cooks, and Green glances over to find Gold not only fully aware of the action, but _smiling_ at them. 

What the hell does he do? 

So he waits, accepts, reciprocates just a little, seeing where the lines are. It eases the ache in his heart some, and then they turn to him in serious expressions. He panics, freezes and wonders what they are saying. 

It is incredibly awkward, them telling him that they've discussed it and they both love him, and if he would like he could join them in their relationship, and they'd like it a lot. 

He could feel like dying in embarrassment when his first response is to tell them he doesn't like the idea of sex. 

Gold just laughs slightly, tells him that it's fine, he'd kind of guessed really, and was that a yes? 

Green blushes profusely, but ultimately nods, overwhelmed by happiness and, shortly, two enthusiastic trainers. 

It'll take some negotiation, some getting used to. They'll need to set boundaries, of course, but in a way, he's looking forward to it. It sounds almost fun, and he is, as they say, not alone anymore. 

He's not perfect, but he's Green, and it turns out that all he needed to be anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written about two years ago? I don't remember my thought processes much, but I do recall wondering how it got from 'Green was depressed and that was why he ended up being such a dick to Red, and how could that have gone?' to 'oh, it's polyamory now, I guess'. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed this exploration of a what-if.


End file.
